


When Dark burns as much as Light.

by HellsBellsSinClub



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt and comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Qui-Gon Jinn does not know how to properly explain things, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix It, sort of character death, vader is a very angry old man who regrets everything and knows full well what his sins are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-10-05 00:10:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10293026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellsBellsSinClub/pseuds/HellsBellsSinClub
Summary: Darth Vader dies in the arms of his son, fully expecting to be sent to the Void for his sins. Instead, he wakes up in a sandstone hut on what seems to be Tatooine with a ghost of an old friend who has a lot to say to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so norcumi prompted ‘when dark burns as much as the Light’ for the fic title meme on tumblr and I came up with a small little thing and after several hours I decided that yes, I needed to spend several hours making this first chapter thingy because reasons. IDK if I will continue with it as I don’t really have much of an outline or plot for it but it was a fun two or so hours of work. Please enjoy and if you want me to continue please let me know.

Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith and right hand to the Emperor wheezed painfully as his son dragged him towards a ship. He could hear the blasting evacuation sirens blaring around them and the sounds of panicking soldiers. The base was collapsing around them. Soon, very soon, the whole thing would explode and kill everyone who is still stuck within it.

Vader could not help but think that it would be a fitting end to Sidious reign. To be taken down himself by his right-hand man and a Rebel leader and to have his newest waste of money blown up. He couldn’t help but smirk painfully under his mask, knowing full well that Sidious could not resurrect himself. Vader had seen to that his own little Inquisitors had destroyed the clones and technology needed for Sidious to ever come back from the void.

His children would be safe from that man. Vader had ensured it.

Luke, his dear wonderful and strong like his mother Luke, dropped him inside of the ship. Inside enough that he was just out of the ramps door. He could hear his son frantically running to cockpit and felt the ship prepare to take off. Opening his battered shields, Vader sent the correct codes and instructions on getting out of this place to his son, knowing that the young man would be able to hear him.

He felt his sons joy and repulsion of being able to feel him and his Darkness. Such an ironic person, his son is. Luke knew full well what sins he has done these last several years and has been on the other end of Vader’s Lightsaber for Force sake! But still, the boy holds out hope that there is still good within Vader’s heart. Like his mother once did.

Vader was not sure if he had it in him to tell the boy otherwise. He did not save the boy because he was good. Or because there was Light within him.

He saved his son and destroyed Sidious because his son was the reason for his Fall. Was the reason why he became the Sith Master’s lap dog. It was his fear that he would lose Padme and his children that drove him to the Dark in the first place. He would have done anything Luke had asked him to do; if he had asked him directly that was.

The ship jerked and spun and manoeuvred itself around the other ships and debris. Vader could faintly hear Luke’s excited shouts as he contacted his friends. No doubt the Rebels had long since taken Endor from the Troopers bellow.

He smiled faintly to himself, no doubt those very same Rebels will want to take him apart, limb from limb. But he doubted that he would be able to hold on that long. He was keeping himself alive with the sheer will of his Force. He needed to talk to his children. He needed to ensure that they stay alive after the fall out of all this.

“Luke.” He rasped, his voice barely able to be heard over the engines. But he sent the plea out to his son with the Force and knew that the boy heard him.

“Hold on Father! We will be landing soon!” His bright like the twin suns boy called back from the cockpit.

“Please, come here my son. And bring a Comm.” He managed before a coughing fit took over him. There is not much time left Luke. I need to speak with you. And your sister. Please Luke.

He could feel the boy’s hesitation before the pounding of footsteps was upon him. He looked up at the boy through his mask and could not help but think that he looked so much like his grandmother at this moment. Vader remembered his mother looking down at him with the same expression on her face when he caught a fever when he was a child and Watto had not given them any medical supplies.

Coughing again, Vader spoke slowly, his voice rough and choked. “Comm her. Please.”

Luke gave him a worried look and nodded. Luke Comm the Princess, whom Vader knew was his daughter from the moment he tortured her, and waited for her to answer.

“Luke? What is wrong?” Came the sharp voice of the Organa heir. She sounded very much like her mother when she had been Queen, now that Vader thinks about it.

Giving himself a mental shake, Vader rasped into the Comm. “The Emperor is dead, Princess. Your Rebellion has worked. I am about to tell you a series of numbers. Remember them as they will be what makes you legally Empress. You cannot take down what Palpatine made in just one battle. The numbers will be what helps you the most. I am sorry for all I did. To you and everyone else.” He began to cough heavily. His lungs were shutting down. When he could breathe again he continued. “394785920461. Remember those numbers. They will be your success in bringing down the Darkness. Look after your brother. And yourself. You are the last hope.”

“Wait! What the hell do you mean by that!” The Princess demanded as Vader closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the ground. He was tired. So, so tired.

“Father? Father! Stay with me!” Luke cried, holding him close.

Vader felt a bitter smile rise up on his face and forced his eyes open. “Luke… take off my mask. Let me see you for once… with my own eyes.” His voice was barely a whisper now and his lungs were barely pulling in any air.

He had only a few minutes and then he will sleep forever in the Void. No longer burdened by a prophecy or demands of others. He will be free, like how Qui-Gon Jinn promised he would be when he was but a child.

“But you will die.” Luke spoke quietly, his face heartbroken.

“I am already dead Luke. Please. I want to see your face.” Vader rasped. Soon. So very soon. But first, he must look at his child with his own eyes, not with this glass.

Luke looked ready to kneel over and cry but the boy nodded and carefully lifted off the mask; and for the first time in over twenty years, Vader willingly looked up at someone with his own two eyes.

And he did not regret it.

His son had his colouring from when he was a young man. The sun-bleached hair. Light tanned skin that never goes away after living on Tatooine. Those bright blue eyes that shone with tears. Yes, that was how he used to look.

But that pouting lip and nose. That chin and cheekbones. Oh, those were all Padme. And the compassion was all hers too.

“She would have loved you. And your sister.” Vader reached up with the last of his energy and gently touched the back of his finger against his son’s cheek. The sensitivity on his hand still worked and he could feel the softness of the young man’s skin through his glove. “She would have been so, so proud of the two of you. Like I am.”

He gave one last non-bitter smile and allowed himself to fall deep into the Force.

\-----

Vader was surprised to find that it was not the grey Void he had read so much about that greeted him when he opened his eyes. Instead, he found himself looking up at the sandstone ceilings that were most commonly found on Tatooine. He remembered spending nearly the whole of his first decade looking up at such a thing. It was odd to look up at it now. Shaking his head, Vader swung his legs to the side and put his head in his hands, wondering what the hell was going on.

And then realising rather belatedly that all four of his limbs were flesh and that he was no longer in a suit. Oh, and he could actually feel hair on his head.

Blinking slowly, Vader looked down at the flesh and boned hands that he has not seen in well over twenty years and fought down the urge to cry. Such a simple little thing, having his body back. It made his chest tighten in a way that brought back memories of when he was dream of Padme’s death. Panic. He was feeling panic. And grief.

Oh, he was feeling everything now. How long has it been since he became physically numb to his emotions? All the rage and hatred that had been his constant companion all these years was gone. All he could feel was his own fear and panic and grief and pain. Full body sobs shuddered his body, his fully human and young again body, as he attempted to control his emotions. But Vader has never been able to get control of his emotions. Never. It was always Kenobi who calmed him down and walked him through his meditations.

And he had killed Kenobi. It was his fault. He had destroyed the man on Mustafar and then ended his life on the first Death Star. All his life, Kenobi did his best to help him and Vader is man enough (or maybe it was broken enough) to say that he spat that in the man’s face at every turn. He had been horrible and never saw how much other man sacrificed for him. And by the Force he hated himself for what he had become.

It was his fault. All his fault. Perhaps this was the grey Void and perhaps it was supposed to be this self-torturing hell that he was in.

Pathetic animalistic whines fell from his throat as he remembered all the things he had done to deserve this. He remembered the deaths of the Raiders who killed his mother. He remembered the terrified screams of those younglings who tried to run from him. He remembered the way his blade felt going through the Jedi and the younglings, all who begged him to stop, to have mercy. He remembered hunting down Rebels and Jedi, killing them without mercy or care. He remembered destroying planets and cultures and never saying a thing about it.

He remembered how he allowed the Darkness to cloud his mind and take pleasure from the pain of others. And he felt sick knowing that Darkness was still inside of him. It was within his core; deep bellow waiting like a hungry beast. It was waiting for the chance to come out, to take control and consume everything and everyone around him.

“The Darkness you carry will only consume you if you allow it, Ani.” A low, baritone voice he has not heard in years spoke several feet away from him.

Vader’s head snapped up in shock as he stared at the kind face of the very much dead Qui-Gon Jinn.

“How…” Vader croaked, voice heavy with tear. Even without the tears it sounded weird to hear his own voice again. “How are you here?”

Jinn smiled and looked every bit of the kind man that took him from his home all those years ago. “The kettle just boiled. Let’s have some tea.” The older man held out his hand to Vader and after several moments of hesitation, Vader took it.

Jinn led Vader out of a door way that he had not even realised was there, and into a small kitchen area. He looked around, taking in his surroundings with military precision that he doubted he would ever grow out of.

They were in a small sandstone hut from what he could tell. There were several other rooms leading away from where they were and the bedroom they just came from was to the left. He could not see the ‘Fresher but if memory served him right, it would be in that small door to the right of the bedroom and would more than likely only have a toilet and Sonic.

Jinn brought over a small whistling kettle to the round table next to where he stood. The tall man gestured for Vader to sit as he made the tea with practiced ease. Vader remembered almost fondly Kenobi doing the exact same thing. Vader regretted that he could only stand tea in small doses. The two men always made it look like an art.

“How are you feeling Ani?” Jinn asked after several long moments of silent tea drinking between them.

Vader twitched at the continued use of that name but let it go. It did not matter. “I am dead.” He stated simply.

Jinn’s lips twitched under his moustache. “Obi-Wan said the same thing when he came through.” There was a laugh hidden there in his deep voice.

Vader frowned at the wording. “Do you greet everyone that dies then?” Was this really Qui-Gon Jinn? Or some entity? Or was he just a figment of Vader’s imagination?

“Not everybody.” Jinn looked sad, his eyes looking down to the table. “Just old friends.” He sighed, sipping his tea. “But that is not why I am here.”

Vader glared, eyes narrowed and shoulders tensing. “Why are you here and what do you want from me?” He demanded.

“I am here to give you another chance at life. A chance to do good. To bring proper balance to the Force.” Jinn stated as if he was telling Vader what the weather was supposed to be.

Vader bared his teeth in anger. Balance, Balance, Balance. That is all his life has been. Ever since Jinn said to the _oh-so-powerful-and-wise_ Council that he was the ‘Chosen One of the Force’, Vader’s life has been hell. Nothing he did was good enough. And when he did do something of worth, all they would say was _‘oh, he is the Chosen one, it’s to be expected.’_ He never had a choice. Not once.

Nothing in his life has ever been a choice.

Seeing his face, Jinn seemed to back track. “Let me start over.” The tall man sighed, running a hand through his long hair. “You are very much the Chosen One of the Force.” He held a hand up to stop any protests from Vader. “But the events that happened to cause the history that we know was not supposed to happen.”

Vader held his stone mug tight, letting the heat of the tea burn into his hand. “What do you mean?” He ground out, teeth clenched.

“Circumstances can change easily. A butterfly only needs to flutter its wings to cause a hurricane.” Jinn explained. “A man by the name of Sifo-Dyas, whom you may remember was the one who apparently ordered the creation of the Clone soldiers, was a man who was prone to many visions. Many times in our past, Sifo-Dyas attempted to stop a future he saw from happening for whatever reason. Sometimes he was successful. He saved many lives because of his intervention. Other times…” Jinn trailed off and looked pained.

“He caused something worse to happen, right?” Vader guessed quietly, unclenching his jaw slightly. Oh, how he understood both Sifo-Dyas’ and Jinn’s pain. He had experienced his own visions too many times in the past.

“I have trained three Padawan’s in my life, Ani” Jinn spoke more quietly. “My first was Feemor. His Master died three or so years before he became a Knight. I took over his training and Knighted him. My second… My second was a wonderful boy named Xanatos. He was brash, prideful and amazing. I loved him like a son. Sifo-Dyas had a vision that he would Fall and attempted to intervene. The said intervention is what ultimately lead to him Falling and trying to kill me. He eventually committed suicide to escape from justice many years later in front of Obi-Wan and I.”

Vader stared up at Jinn in shock. No one had ever told him this. Yes, he knew of Feemor but not of this Xanatos. Why had no one ever spoken of him.

“Obi-Wan was my Padawan at the time and it was hard for him, for I was not a nice man. Not anymore. After Xani had Fallen, I was cold to the point of cruel. And Obi-Wan bore the brute of that unfortunately.” Jinn continued before shaking his head. “Anyway, Sifo-Dyas’ intervention is what eventually led to us finding you the way we did. Had he not have intervened with other missions and with other people in general, you would have been found at a much younger age and more than likely; you and your mother would have been freed.”

Vader froze at those words. He could have been found by the Jedi much earlier. They could have freed him and his mother. They would have been safe. But one person. This one, stupid person, decided he had to play god?!

It was hypercritical to think given how many times he intervened with his visions but it was his life that was ruined! His! And his sweet mothers! They would have been safe, Vader despaired quietly.

“How do you know if this is true or not?” He hissed, feeling the Darkness within him stir at his anger.

Jinn gave twitch of his lip. “Death can make clear what is clouded in life. Many of us who have passed have been shown what paths we should have taken.”

Vader remained silent for a few moments, trying to hold back his anger. “What does this all mean to me?” He asked when he was finally calm enough to speak.

“You can go back and change what happened.” Jinn said. “Not as your younger self. But as you are now.”

Vader blinked and frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?” He was getting tired of asking questions.

“The Line of Bane has become corrupt and needs to be destroyed.” Jinn nodded, a fierce look on his face. “And in its place, a new Sith Order needs to rise.”

“Sith Order?!” Vader yelled. “Are you insane? Yes, Sidious and his lot need to die but Darkness is bad Jinn! Unless you haven’t noticed!”

Jinn gave a small smile and shook his head. “Most Darkness, when misused, is bad yes. But pure Darkness, like the one you are emitting right now, is just as normal as Light. They are two sides of the same credit chip, Ani. The only difference you will find is Darkness is naturally more cold whereas Light is more warm.”

Vader wanted to punch that smirk right off Jinn’s face. He does not get it! Why doesn’t he get it?! The Darkness inside of Vader was a cancer and it eats him alive. Why they hell would he want anyone else to feel this? Why the hell would anyone want to willing feel this and work within an Order that feels like this?!

Jinn gave a small sigh. “There needs to be a proper balance, Anakin.” Vader flinched at the name. “And you will have to be the one to help bring that balance. You will be the leader of the Dark and Obi-Wan will be the leader of the Light. Together, the two of you will usher in a new age of peace and balance.” The tall man stood and smiled down at him.

“It has already been decided by the Force itself. I will be here for you when you need it. Obi-Wan will be waiting for you on the other side, though it may take you a few months to find and speak to him.” Jinn’s body looked to be fading softly the more he looked at it. “You will find everything you need within your need home, Ani. And we will be here to guide you along the way. May the Force be with you Anakin Skywalker.”

And with those last words, the figure of Qui-Gon Jinn was gone, like a mirage in the desert suns; leaving Vader alone in a small desert hut Force only knows where.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader is very angry and very sad.

Vader raged.

He screamed and tore through the small hut, tearing things apart with his bare hands and with the Force until he was left with nothing but a mess and an ache that ran deep across his now fully flesh and bone body.

Why?! Why are they doing this to him? He would gladly suffer an eternity in the Void than to be back here in the past where he could now _feel_ the thousands of lights that represented the Jedi and other Force sensitive beings in the galaxy. Lights that he destroyed in the past. Future. Whatever.

Perhaps this was his punishment. He has to feel all lives he destroyed in his grasp for power and selfishness and he has to know that he destroyed all those beautiful and wonderful lights that shone so brightly…

Vader fell to his knees and covered his eyes before screaming once more. He did not want to be here. He did not want to have to face this all over again. He fucked up. He knew this. Vader knew this oh so very well! He has known only this for the last twenty plus years!

So why did they give him a second chance?

Vader stopped screaming and dropped his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be the Chosen One any more. They whole thing about being chosen was only something fun and grand for a week at the most. After that first week, Vader had come to realise just what the hell was going on and how people were treating him.

After that first week, Vader quietly cursed Qui-Gon and his words. The older man took him from his home, had all but dropped Obi-Wan for a new shiny toy (that was him) and had then said to the most powerful group in the galaxy that he was some mythical being who was supposed to bring balance? Oh, and then Qui-Gon Jinn had to go and fucking die and leave Obi-Wan grieving and angry about it all.

At least Obi-Wan never took his anger out on Vader. The older man had made extra sure that Vader had everything he could want or need, baring his mother of course, and Obi-Wan had even hidden his grief from him! The stupid man had hidden his tears, his pain and had focused solely on raising him.

Vader shook his head. He never deserved Obi-Wan Kenobi. He had never done anything in his life to deserve the other man. He had thrown everything back into Obi-Wan’s face and Obi-Wan never once said a word at the pain he must have felt.

Anakin Skywalker had been a monster long before Sidious placed a mask over his head and called him Vader.

Vader let out a low shuddering breath and for the first time in over twenty years, he cried.

He cried for his wife Padme, who died because of him and his actions.

He cried for Ahsoka, his dear little Padawan who he adored more than anything and who he tried to kill despite his joy of finding out that she had lived through 66.

He cried for his men. The Clones, the Storm Troopers, all of them. They had been under his command and they all died or worse.

He cried for Rex, his friend and Captain. He missed the dry humour and crooked smile the man would give him when they did something stupid on the field.

He cried for the Jedi, the ones he killed, the ones who suffered and the ones who were made to flee and hide for the rest of their lives.

He cried for the younglings he slaughtered with his own Saber, knowing that they had trusted him, believed in him. And he had killed them all.

He cried last for his twins. He children who he never got to know.

He cried for the Princess, the girl who stood toe to toe with him and stared him down.

He cried for Luke, his son who shone brighter than the Twin Suns.

He cried and cried until there was no tears left in him. Exhaustion filled his body and his stinging eyes burnt as he closed them. With a great effort, he stood and stumbled his way to small bedroom and collapsed on the bed, not bothering to remove his clothes despite the heat that was sweltering around him.

With heavy limbs weighing him down and a blankness clouding his mind, Vader fell into a deep, restless sleep.

-

_“Ani! Please your scaring me!”_

_“What are we going to do Master Skywalker? There are too many of them!”_

_“I won’t leave you! Not again.”_

_“I am a Jedi. Like my father before me!”_

_“Darth Vader. Only you could be so bold.”_

_“You were my brother Anakin! I loved you.”_

Their voices were almost screaming at him. Their faces haunting him. Their expressions twisted with pain and grief and it was all his fault.

Padme, his sweet Padme. The look of fear in her eyes as he slowly crushed her throat while he was high on his new powers.

The Younglings all looking at him with innocent wide eyes. They had hoped that he would save him. That he would rescue them and their friends. He had turned his blade on them.

His dear little Snips, all grown up and strong. His heart had almost burst into joy when he first saw her. She was alive. She had survived. And he almost killed her.

Luke, dear precious Luke. How that boy saw any kind of Light in him, Vader did not know. But that boy never gave up on him. And he never once excused Vader’s crimes against him and his friends.

Leia Organa. If there was ever a woman like his Padme it would be her. Vader hated that he tortured her. Hated that hurt her. He was glade that she won her war. She would be the leader of a new and free universe. He knew she would be.

Oh dear Obi-Wan.

His brother did not deserve what Vader did to him. He did not deserve any of it. Vader had been selfish and cruel and had not opened his eyes to what Obi-Wan offered him when they had both been alive. He had been stupid, thinking that Obi-Wan’s silence meant that the older man did not want to talk. Vader had thought that Obi-Wan was an emotionless, unfeeling machine who never went against the Order. How stupid could he have been not to see the raw pain and joy the other man felt. How stupid was he to think that Obi-Wan never loved anyone?

How stupid was to not see how much Obi-Wan loved him?

All these voices. All these faces. All these people. It was his fault. All his fault. He destroys everything he touches with his polluted love.

He reached out for them within his dream and the crumbled into dust as his hand touched them, their faces twisting in agony and their mouth open in a silent scream. One by one they all disappeared and soon even the dust blew away.

And he was left with nothing but a dark and empty room, filled with a cold chill that came from inside his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to be done forever ago. And then things happened and it kinda disappeared. I don't know when the next chapter will be out. But there will be more to this fic, promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yippy! A new chapter! Vader pulls his head out of his ass and begins to sort of plan his next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for new chapter! Please enjoy and if you do like what you read, please write up a comment or give a kudos. Both are wonderful and give me inspiration and motivation to write more!

Vader woke with a startled shout hanging on his lips. His heart pounded and his mind raced as he looked around the room in fright, almost forgetting where he was.

His breath came in low, heated pants as he focused on the stone walls around him. He remembered staring at walls like these for the first decade of his life. He remembered running his fingers down the rough surface, hoping his fingers would become stronger and less sensitive the more he did it. He remembered when he was taken to the Temple for the first time and how smooth the walls were and how he hated the feeling of them under his hands.

Everything at the Temple was smooth and soft. When he had been young, Vader had not understood nor had he liked the smooth wall and rounded features that the Temple boasted. It was strange and made everything echo in his opinion. Obi-Wan had spent months teaching Vader how to deal with all the noise and people around him. And to deal with the culture shock.

Obi-Wan had been there for him a lot. Even through his grief, the older man was always there to guide him with a steady hand and kind eyes.

Vader cursed Palpatine for his manipulations. For his poisoned words. Since the beginning, that man twisted his mind, filled him with unrest and invasive thoughts that eventually led him to becoming the monster he was now.

Oh, he can’t fully blame Palpatine. He knows that. The Sith may have whispered the sweet poisons into his mind and manipulated his dreams, but Vader knows full well that his actions were his own. Everything he did was of his own free will and he is the one to shoulder the blame there.

Vader breathed slowly, filling his now undamaged lungs with the dry, heated air. He had often wondered, towards the end before his ‘death’, what would his life had been if Sidious had not been around.

Would the war had even happened? Would he had been born? Would Qui-Gon have died? How would life actually be for the universe?

Sighing, Vader pushed away those thought. They would not do him any good here. He stood from the small bed and rolled his neck, secretly pleased that he could actually do so again. He was not going to miss that damned suit, that was for sure.

Every moment in that suit was pain. There had been many times when he had cursed Obi-Wan for not finishing the job. For leaving him alive when he could have just killed Vader and be done with it. It wasn’t like Vader had not deserved his death for what he had done.

But that was then. This is now. He needed to figure out what the hell was going on. He cannot allow himself to wallow around in self-pity anymore. If he was truly in the past, like how Qui-Gon had said he was, then there was so much he needed to do.

Clenching his jaw, Vader stalked out of the room and into the living area. Everything was still a mess and he would first need to take care of it. Then he would catalogue everything he has. And then…

And then he was exploring his surroundings. If he was really on Tatooine, then he needed to know where he was and where the nearest settlement was. He needed to know what year it was and whether or not his mother and…younger self was on planet yet. He needed to figure out a way to save them. To save all of the slaves.

Should he take down Jabba? Is there a safe way for him to lead a rebellion with the slaves? Should he do a hostile takeover? Should he use the Force and manipulate the Hutt? Would he be able to? He has never tried to do so with a Hutt before…

And money. He needed to think about money. And food. And he need to keep a low profile. Vader cannot let Palpatine get his hands on him again. Oh, and now he had to worry about the Jedi coming after him because he was a Sith. Joy.

If he somehow got in contact with Obi-Wan…

Damnit.

Would Obi-Wan even want to see him? After all his done, all the pain he has caused; would his former Master even want to be near him?

The thought made his heart ache. He had done so many terrible things in the past. He had hurt and betrayed so many people. And Obi-Wan had suffered the most at his hands. Vader did not know what to do. Or how he could even say sorry to the other man.

Would sorry even mean anything? After all he has done? Would Obi-Wan forgive him? Or would he turn Vader away?

Honestly, he would not be surprised if Obi-Wan did turn him away. If he had been in Obi-Wan’s shoes he would have left Vader to rot.

Perhaps that is why Obi-Wan was the better man. Vader never offered a hand to someone he deemed unworthy of his attention. But Obi-Wan…

Obi-Wan offered his hand to everyone. Even his enemies. If there was even the slightest chance he could help, Obi-Wan would take it.

Maybe that was why Qui-Gon said that Obi-Wan was the Chosen One of the Light. Maybe. Who knows?

Vader let out a low, shuddering breath and pushed all thoughts from his mind. He needed to clean up this place. After that… He will figure out what he should do once the place was clean.

He starts by picking up the sharp, shattered remains of the tea pot that Qui-Gon had brought to the table. He ignored the sting of pain as the shards pierced his skin. The pain was nothing compared to what he went through these last twenty years. Nothing would ever compare to that.

Vader never hated cleaning, not like how his peers at the Temple did. For him, cleaning has always been something you just do. When in the slave quarters with his mother, cleaning and tidying up meant that there was no clutter and that Watto would not get angry at them. His mother always made cleaning into a small game. A game that was done together with small shared smiles and laughter.

When he had moved to the Temple, Vader still kept things neat and tidy. At first it was out of fear; the Jedi were after all very clean and well-presented people. Vader had been terrified to give them any reason to send him back to be a slave once more. Once he had settled down a little bit, he allowed himself a little… organised chaos was the words Obi-Wan used to describe it.

Vader used to have small sections of his old Padawan room devoted to his love of droids and electronics. To others it would have looked like a mess but to him it was completely organised.

It’s strange. Remembering what it was like back at the Temple with the Jedi and not feeling the burning rage that had been his companion for the past two decades. He had always wondered if he had been influenced continuously by Palpatine in the years after the fall of the Republic. During those two decades, Vader would always be in a state of rage whenever he was within Palpatine’s presence.

There was no burning rage right now. Only the cold chill that lay in his heart from the Dark Side that was slowly eating away at from the inside out. It was like a cancer.

It didn’t matter what Qui-Gon said. He was not going to ever allow anyone else to suffer through this. There had to be a way to minimise the Darkness if not completely destroy it.

He needed to find out more about the Darkside if he was going to fix not only himself, but anyone he may come across who was in the same ship as him. But first, he needed to finish cleaning this place up.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader get some stuff done and muses about the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait. Things have been a little bit hectic lately. 
> 
> Comments are love and kudos are hugs. Please leave either or both.

Cleaning up the mess he had made in his fit of rage and grief took several hours. But Vader did not mind at all. It was soothing, a repetitive task that required no thought or skill. He did not need to think about his situation or what he was going to do next after he finished picking up the various things he had thrown about and destroyed.

It was simple, mindless work that that left him calm and almost relaxed when he was done. He felt as if he had mediated for hours in the Room of a Thousand Fountains. His head was clear and his emotions were stable as they could get at the present time.

The room was now as tidy as it could be once he was done. A small pile in the corner held all of the broken and smashed items that he would look into fixing later. He could not simply throw them out. No, he had no money currently (at least he thought he doesn’t away. He had yet to take inventory of the hut) and really, Vader never understood _why_ people threw out items when they were broken or a little worn and banged up.

It was like taking showers every day or not eating food that was a couple of days off. Little things like that used to confuse him and get him into trouble back at the Temple. It took months, Force, years even, for him to fully conform to the Temple’s ways. And that was only because of the constant teasing from his peers and scolding he received from the various Masters.

At least Obi-Wan sort of understood. He never forced Vader to do anything that he didn’t want to do. But even he did not fully understand why Vader hated wasting things or why Vader all but hoarded items that were broken or worn out. The older man was from a completely different culture to Vader and more often than not, their cultural differences led to fights.

Vader shook his head and sighed. There was no point in thinking about that right now. There was still work to do and he needed to get on with it if he was going to be able to figure out his next steps.

Right. He needed to do an inventory of everything in the hut. He needed to know what he had and what he would need to trade for. Force, he was probably going to need to get some vaporators too if he really was on Tatooine. Water was better than money on this planet. Not to mention the fact he needed water or he would die a slow and painful death.

Vader shivered. He remembered vividly the painful death lack of water on this planet caused. It was almost as bad as slave owners tying slaves to a vaporator and leaving them in a sand storm.

No, he would buy a vaporator and he would ensure that he would have enough water to live and trade. He won’t let himself die like that. He won’t.

Gritting his teeth, Vader decided that it was best to start with the kitchen area. He needed to know if he had food or not first off. Food would be a priority seeing as he was no longer in his suit and could now actually eat instead of having a tube in his stomach that provided nutrients to his body. Vader would be lying if he said he was not a little bit excited that he would actually be able to eat again.

When he had been younger, before he Fell, Vader loved food. He would eat everything that was put in front of him and he could never stop that small feeling of gratitude that would rise up in him whenever he ate. Food and water will always be precious to him. Vader did not think he would ever be able to see them as anything else.

Taking inventory of what he had took time. There was plenty of dried meet that would not go bad for years, seeing as it was all properly stored. There were several large jugs of various desert fruit juices that would keep him hydrated and cool. He had rations, the good kind, that would last him a few months. And there was water. Fresh, cold water. Five jugs full. That would last him two months if he was careful with it.

Vader was not sure if the water he had was just a one-off thing or if there was a vaporator or not, but he resolved to find out once he was done doing an inventory of the whole hut.

The kitchen was also stocked with enough plates, cups and cook ware for two people. Vader was not sure why there would enough for two but he was grateful for the extra things, seeing as he could always trade them in for various items at a settlement.

The bedroom he realised, now that he was paying attention and not emotionally compromised, was actually quite large. The bed, while simple, was practical for the planet and would not be likely to attract mites and bugs because of the material. There was a large dresser filled with clothes and shoes as well as several blasters and knives.

Vader gently stroked the cool metal of one of the blasters, marvelling how the texture felt against his wounded finger tips. He had yet to heal the small little cuts from when he cleaned but he did not mind them. Their small pin pricks of pain were nothing to him at all.

Looking at the blasters, Vader could not help but remember how Obi-Wan hated blasters. He thought them uncivilised and crude. Vader always thought that they were a cruel weapon, one you could use to cause harm and pain without killing someone. Well, that was until he held a Lightsaber for the first time and realised how cruel of a weapon the blade truly was compared to a blaster. You are more likely to die from shock with a blaster wound then you are from a Lightsaber burn.

You could cut someone for days, weeks even with a Lightsaber. And your victim would not die. They would only scream in pain again and again and again and…

NO. Vader forcibly pulled his mind away from that train of thought. He will not think of that. He will not remember those times. He cannot. He cannot allow himself to be distracted. He knows what he did. There is nothing that can change it. Remembering how it felt, how it sounded and what he did will not change anything.

Vader pulled his hand away from the blaster and closed the draw, taking slow and deep breaths to calm himself down. He needed to focus on his task. He cannot allow himself to fall back into the shadowed memories of the past.

If he does fall back into those memories, Vader was sure that what he had done in the living area would look like a younglings tantum compared to what he would do.

Deep breaths in and out. In and out. The dry heat filled his lungs, calming him slowly but surely. After a while, Vader was able to safely say that he was calm once more.

There was one last thing in the room he needed to check. A small chest in the corner of the room, almost hidden away by the shadows of the room. He walked over to it cautiously. He was not able to feel anything from the chest and was unsure of what could actually be in the chest, seeing as all the clothes and weapons were in the dresser.

He knelt down and opened the chest slowly. Inside was a small piece of actual paper on top of a cloth. The cloth was a deep blue and was no doubt covering something. Vader narrowed his eyes at the cloth and decided to read the paper before he did anything. He picked up the paper and began to read what was written upon it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader reads his letter and finds out whats in the box.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love and Kudos are hugs. Please leave either or both if you liked the story!

_‘Anakin,_

_I am sorry that I cannot be there in person to tell you this. By the time you read this I am going to be up to my neck with Temple politics and it would probably be best for the both of us if we did not meet for the time being._

_I would like to start off by saying I am sorry. I failed you many times my old friend. I should have been there for you and I should have helped you. I did not do enough and I left you feeling like you were alone in the universe. And for that, I am truly and deeply sorry._

_There were many things I should have done when we were still alive and young. The word ‘if’ played on my mind for the twenty years I watched over your son. If I had done this. If I had done that. It was… It was hard, to say the least. I played over all the different interactions we had within my mind, wondering what I could have done or said to help you._

_I know I cannot change our past. What was done was done and though I wish from the deepest part of my heart to be able to do so, I know that I cannot take anything back. And nor can you._

_But today is a new day and a new chance to make things right. We are currently in the past, our own past. And yes, we do exist still. My younger self is currently in the Temple while you are yet to be born. At least, I am not sure if you are or not. You may be reading this letter a few months to a few years after it is written, so I cannot be sure._

_Qui-Gon probably has not told you much as of yet, but I can promise you that he will soon. There is much I want to say to you Anakin, so very much._

_But it must be said in person, not on paper._

_So, I will end this letter here. There is much for both of us to do and we should not put anything off for too long._

_I love you, Anakin. You will always be my brother no matter what. And I forgive you._

_Ben Kenobi.’_

The letter fell from Vader’s limp hands as a flood of emotions overcame his body and mind.

Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan. _Obi-Wan._

Obi-Wan was sorry. Obi-Wan regretted not being able to help Vader. Obi-Wan loved him. Obi-Wan _forgave him._

An animalistic whine clawed up Vader’s throat and out his mouth. He collapsed to his knees. Obi-Wan loved him. Forgave him. Obi-Wan still cared for him.

He didn’t know what to feel. What to say or think. Everything inside of him screamed in joy and pain and rage. How could Obi-Wan still love him? After all that he has done? How could Obi-Wan still see him as a brother? He killed Obi-Wan. He killed him. He destroyed the other man’s life and he still cares for Vader. Still calls him by that name that he could no longer claim.

How. How could Obi-Wan be so kind hearted? How could that man still care so much for a murderer like him?

Vader closed his eyes and forced back the tears that pricked at his eyes. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness. He doesn’t deserve the kindness that Obi-Wan was offering him. But by the Twin Suns in the sky, Vader was a greedy man and he will hoard all that Obi-Wan has given him and he will not let it go.

But he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hoard it all. He needs to learn to let things go. That was always his problem when he was younger, he never let anything go and it ruined him and all of his relationships.

But by the Force he did not want to let go of anything. He wanted to keep the kindness and forgiveness that Obi-Wan has given him and he does not want to ever forget about it.

It was times like these he wished he had taken up Padme’s offer to go see a mind healer when the war had begun. Maybe if he had seen one, Vader would have had a better understanding of his emotions and thoughts and well, everything.

It had been his pride that had stopped him, when his wife had offered. Pride and the notion that if he had to see a mind healer than he was weak. A stupid notion and thought. But one that he had not been able to stop having.

Vader pushed away all of these thoughts. They would not do him any good. None of this was doing him any good. He needed to focus. There was something in the box and he needed to see what it was.

Opening his eyes, Vader moved into a kneeling position once more and with careful and slow hands, he removed the silky blue cloth that reminded him too much of Padme’s night gown. The blue cloth reviled a slender rectangle box with beautiful engravings upon the wood.

Vader could not help but pull an annoyed face. Of course, Obi-Wan had a box within a box given to him. The older man knew full well that Vader disliked it when such things happened. Vader remembered on Life Day many years ago when Obi-Wan had placed eighteen boxes within each other, just to annoy Vader.

Pulling out the box with steady hands, Vader could not help but stare at it. The wood was soft and the engravings were smooth to touch. There were no words on box, but gentle swirls that were like waves in an ocean. It was beautifully made, the kind of beautiful that cost thousands of credits to buy.

Carefully, Vader opened the box and nearly dropped it in shock. There on another silky blue cloth laid his old lightsaber, the one he lost while lying burnt and broken by the lava river. The one that his son had used against him. The one that his son lost above Cloud City when Vader cut off his hand.

There it laid, so innocent and unassuming on the blue cloth. There was not a scratch on it. No marks from the war. No dent from when he dropped it off the work table when trying to clean out the mud that was stuck in it. It was a blank slate. One that had never been used before.

With a hand that was now trembling, Vader carefully took out the lightsaber and placed the box down. He stood on unsteady legs and held the lightsaber out before him. His finger hovered over the activation button. What colour would his blade be? The bright blue of his youth? The blood red of his tyrannical days?

Closing his eyes, Vader steeled himself and pressed the activation button. Whatever colour the blade may be, he would hold the blade with pride and strength. This lightsaber was his and it would not matter what colour it was, only the actions he took when welding it.

The low hum of the lightsaber drew him out of his thoughts and with determination and fear swirling inside of his chest, Vader opened his eyes to a blinding white light.


End file.
